Miasmatic, Part One
by Avery
Summary: A fight . . .


Miasmatic  
By Avery  
  
Part One  
  
AN: Well, it's finally completed. This is the sequel to Figlio Perduto, which is the sequel to Almost. I highly suggest you read these two stories before attempting this one. And, a warning- THIS STORY HAS IMPLIED SLASH. Man on man. Don't read it if you don't like it.  
  
Miasmatic has been spilt into two separate parts, mainly due to the rating. I could not put the second part under a PG-13 rating in good conscious, so part two is in the R rated section.  
  
Thanks, thanks and more thanks to all the people who badgered me about this, and special thanks to Ice_chan (my brainstorming buddy) Ultima Goddess (Smut queen and slash diva) and ChaosAngel (for careful nudges in the right direction). And, of course, to all of my reviewers.  
  
JCA is not mine. It belongs to Sony. Should they ever read this story, they will probably have me killed  
  
Enjoy!  
  
Chow's fist came out of nowhere, too quick for Finn to block it, and he got an absolutely fabulous view of the bird shit painting that was their skylight before he hit the floor with a grunt. Panting, he wiped at his nose, not surprised when his hand pulled away tracked with bright red. Chow was panting too, heavier than Finn by far, leaning over with his hands on his knees and sweat dripping off him, leaving a pitch-black stain on the front of his shirt. "What the fuck, dude?" Finn snapped, pushing himself to his feet.  
  
"Sorry." Chow stood up straight, his hair clinging to his forehead in furry clumps. "Let myself go a little."  
  
"If this is broken, I'm suing."  
  
"You do that."  
  
Finn grumbled, fetching a dishrag from the dented brass sink and using it to stem the thin dribble of blood. He flopped down on the couch, head tilted back, grimacing as he tasted the metallic liquid on the back of his tongue. It wasn't a *bad* nosebleed, but he wanted an excuse to rest, anyway. Chow was chugging from one of the gallons of distilled water they kept to drink; the water that came out of the taps was terrifying to bathe in, let alone imbibe. He could feel his heart beat in his fingertips, strong and healthy despite the hell he'd put in through in his teenage years, and spent a few minutes with the horrid smelling rag pressed on his face, savoring the drum like pounding moving through his body. Finn was one of the only people he knew that could feel their heartbeat whenever they wanted. He supposed it's what gave him his natural rhythm.  
  
Chow moved out of his line of vision, and Finn could hear the swish of the air as his capable limbs cut through it, shadowboxing in the cleared area behind the couch. The Irishman would join him in a minute, when his nose stopped stinging.  
  
To be honest, he wasn't sure if the punch had been an accident.  
  
"Get your bitch ass up." Chow called to him, his foot hitting the back of the couch with a disconcerting thump and a twang as one of the springs snapped. "I gotta cook tonight, and I need to get this done." Finn threw the rag at Chow's face, grimly satisfied as the other Enforcer shrieked. "EW! That's all *bloody*!"  
  
"Fucking 'physical therapy'. Your leg seems to be fine to me." Finn pulled himself from the recesses of the sagging piece of furniture, and raised his arm to show off several pre-bruises from where he'd blocked Chow's expert kicks. Chow shrugged, playing hacky-sack with the rag and sending it flying to rest on a stack of Hak Foo's laundry.  
  
"Doctor's orders. It *does* still hurt."  
  
"Shendu's orders, and it can't hurt that bad. You're kicking my ass."  
  
"Hey, don't forget—before Chan showed up, I was the best fighter you knew." Chow looked furiously angry for a second, jealous of the status Chan had. Finn had to concede that he was right. Chow *was* a good fighter, the best martial artist Finn knew. Next to Chan. And, well, Valmont. And Hak Foo. Ah, let him keep his ego. Chow lunged at him, pulling back at the last second. "Come on. You remember what Boss-demon said."  
  
"'An incompetent slave is better than a broken one.'" Finn mimicked spitefully. "At least he gave you that potion to heal the bone—"Finn suddenly felt very bad about bringing this up, because Chow seemed to be going green at the very mention of it. "—ah, yeah. Damn Shendu."  
  
"Careful. He might hear you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Finn raised his fists, adjusting his balance, feet planted firmly on the cheap carpet they used to cover up the freezing concrete floor. "Bring it on."  
  
The quick-paced but familiar tempo of their training let Finn zone out slightly, leaving his body to deflect Chow's mongoose-quick attacks, even throwing a few hits of his own, while his thoughts wafted away. It had been three weeks since Hsi Wu had been banished, and they'd yet to unlock the next part of the Pan Ku box. Ratso had been working on it night unto obsessively, but to no effect. The upside of this is that they'd had a mini- vacation, at least in terms of the grueling last three months. Shendu still wouldn't let them rob anywhere or do *anything* to make money, though they'd managed to fish a few juicy wallets the last time they were out. The bad side was that Shendu was in a perpetually bad mood, although he kept to himself most of the time. Valmont would wander out of the office to watch TV or something once in a while, looking absolutely wretched. Finn felt horrible for his drained employer, but kept his mouth shut. Sympathy wasn't what Valmont needed, a good night's sleep, a hot lay, and a wad of cash was.  
  
And then there was the fact that he'd hadn't been able to hide from Chow. They'd . . . it had been tense. The asian Enforcer seemed to be back to his regular self after the fall, but Finn knew that was just an elaborate mask. Finn just couldn't believe that he was forgiven so easily . . . a slip of the tongue, a side long glance, and slight twitch when touched where there wouldn't have been one before-- these minute details were the clues that Finn had begun to pick up. There were definitely still some issues there. Training with Chow, on Shendu's orders, had been a very strange experience.  
  
Now that he thought about, it had been weird that Shendu had him fighting Chow at all. Maybe the dragon demon sensed that there was something between them, some kind of buried treasure fury. Maybe he was getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of seeing them sparring with each other, unable to actually fight, just mock-battle, like two lame gladiators.  
  
Finn didn't realize what he was doing. The quick burst of anger from thinking about Shendu propelled his fist forward, right into Chow's stomach. His opponent gagged, flopping backward, deflating as all the air was pushed out of his lungs. "Shit," Finn hissed, jogging over to Chow's doubled-up form. "Sorry man. Spaced out for a sec." He offered his hand to help Chow stand.  
How did he get to the floor?  
  
Chow growled, still in the crouch from which he'd tripped Finn. "Bastard." His voice was still unhealthily short, wheezing.  
  
"Fuck, dude! I said I was sorry!" Finn yelled, rubbing his ass from where he'd landed. "What in the hell's your problem?"  
  
"Why'd you hit me?" Chow snarled, standing off and wiping his hands on his pants. Finn gaped.  
  
"Why did I—It was an accident, I told you it was an accident! Fuck, you did the same thing just a few minutes ago." Finn pointed accusingly to his nose. Anger fuzzed his thinking slightly, coloring his face. Chow just scowled, and the man on the ground retorted without realizing it. "Unless it *wasn't* an accident!"  
  
Chow stiffened, Finn could see it in the way the wrinkles of his shirt shallowed ever so faintly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Sorry, I overreacted."  
  
The redhead got to his feet, stance automatically defensive. "Fine. Ready?"  
  
They flew back into it, punching, kicking, blocking. Chow grabbed him tightly by the wrist and spun him around, unbalancing him, but Finn recovered quickly. He tried to jab Chow in the ribs with his elbow, but the man dodging, coming behind him and putting him in a lock. Finn struggled, and snarled. "Since when did this become full contact?"  
  
"What do you mean by it wasn't an accident?" Chow demanded, his voice accusing and way too close for Finn's comfort.  
  
"I mean what I said." Finn spat, realizing the error of his words too late. Chow dropped him, and Finn felt pain in his shoulders from being strained.  
  
"What? You think I hit you on purpose?" Chow's voice was way too self- pleased, like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. He brushed back his hair in an obviously calculated, flippant gesture. "C'mon, Finn. Grow up."  
  
"You know, you might think you're being clever and discreet, *Chow*, but you're not." Finn went for his solar plexus with a well aimed punch, and Chow barely had enough time too dodge the blow. For a moment, he felts Finn's knuckles, like little pebbles brushing against his skin.  
  
"I have absolutely no idea what you—"  
  
"Already said that." Finn blocked one of Chow's higher kicks, the move costing him a feeling in his wrists. "So, what was it? Some kind of revenge thing?"  
Chow flanked him with his hands, clapping Finn on both sides of the head, managing to hit not only his temples but his ears, too. The ringing alone was painful enough to leave Finn addled, but he also felt like his head was preparing to implode. He knew he cursed at Chow, he just couldn't hear it for himself . . . FUCK that hurt. He tried to shake it off, vertigo temporarily making him sway—Chow was grinning. Oh, it was a quick, secretive little smile, but now there was absolutely no doubt in Finn's mind what the other Enforcer was plotting. Finn stepped out of the designated fighting area, and Chow just stood there, glaring from behind his shades.  
  
Finn hadn't felt so angry in a long time. If there were two things he hated, they were being blamed for something that wasn't his fault—and while this situation didn't quite fit into that category, Chow had definitely had a hand in . . . in that night—and sneaky shit. He knew Chow never liked to deal with his crap outright. That's why Finn had gotten him drunk in the first place. But the passive aggressive bullshit he'd been pulling for the past couple weeks, and now this outright attack that he was trying to disguise. It was infuriating.  
  
"Pussying out?" Chow taunted, not bothering to hide his snotty smirk. "Gee, that sounds familiar."  
  
"What the hell is the matter with you?!" Finn drew himself up to his full height, furious. "If you have shit with me, Chow, stop being a little *bitch* and deal with it." Chow dealt with Finn's contest by tightening his fists and turning his back on his challenger. He didn't reply, but Finn could hear him hiss something under his breath. He couldn't believe the smaller man was doing this. Obviously he was still freaked out, but to pull this sort of stunt and not even have a proper response when someone, you know, *points out* the fact that he's attacking them? It was stupid. It was remarkably idiotic. Finn couldn't even come up with a witty way to describe it, he was so . . . so . . . gragh! "Turn around and face me, Chow!"  
  
"I don't have anything to say to you, Finn." He replied astringently, not moving. Finn alternately mimed tearing his own hair out and strangling Chow, and then threw his hands up in the air.  
  
"Fine. *Fine*. Then stop acting like . . . like this."  
  
"Fuck you." Chow huffed.  
  
"Fuck *YOU*!" Finn grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around and getting right up in his face and yelling with all his might. "YOU FUCKING KISSED BACK!"  
  
Chow looked horrified. "Keep it down!" he hissed, looking around them in fright. "Someone might hear!"  
  
"I don't fucking *care*! Goddammit! You were a part of that, too! It's not like I fucking *raped* you!" Finn reeled as Chow uppercut him, his fist catching under Finn lanky chin and throwing his head back. But the difference between this blow and the punches thrown before was this time, Finn was *pissed*. Pissed beyond belief. And anger does amazing things to a person's nervous center- blocking out pain, for instance. He recovered too quickly, and grabbed his opponent by the back of the hair, forcefully bashing Chow's forehead against his knee. He was aiming for the rest of the Enforcer's face, but of well. Some things couldn't be helped . . .  
  
And now they were really fighting. Really, *really* fighting. Trying to cause injury. Finn barely understood why, but it wasn't stopping him from giving as good as he got. This was so fucked up. This was so fucked. This shouldn't be happening. He shouldn't be targeting Chow's throat, Chow shouldn't be trying to break his legs at the knees. But . . . he just couldn't stop himself. He was so humiliated and livid that it made his body, even as he fought, jitter and shake and made his stomach feel like it was a bottle half filled with sludgy, long past the expiration date liquid.  
  
"FREEZE."  
  
The two combatants, well, froze. Shendu stood in the doorway of Valmont's office, his arms crossed, looking like the long suffering single father of a boisterous household. "Uh . . ." Finn stuttered, removing his foot from Chow's diaphragm. "Shendude! Good to see you!"  
  
"Shut up, you idiot." Shendu leaned against the door frame, as if the pressure of dealing with such mortal incompetence was an anvil strapped to his back. "I see you two are taking your training very seriously today."  
  
"Better safe than sorry, you know. Chan, he's been fighting dirty lately. Never know what that crazy man might do. Good to, uh, be prepared."  
  
Shendu rolled his eyes, and impressive expression to get across when your eyes are nothing more than smoldering red embers. "You. Red hair. I'm hungry, and I don't particularly relish the idea of eating something *he's*- " one finger pointed blamingly at Chow, "Concocted. Fetch us food, and bring the stupid one with you."  
  
Finn brushed back his disheveled hair and thought, alternately, about his black eye and the even more severe punishment that would await if he didn't follow Shendu's orders to a tee. Well . . . at least it was a chance to get out of the warehouse. And away from Chow. "You got it, boss. Chinese?"  
  
"Just go, imbecile." Shendu fingered his chin for a moment, brow furrowed, and then yelled at Finn's retreating back. "One of those delicious pie things! With the meat, and cheese! Pizza!"  
  
Chow brushed off his back and ass, grimacing at the amount of dust his hands dislodged. There was stain of blood on the front of his shirt- not his, Finn's. He felt a vindictive surge of glee at that, but swallowed it quickly when he noticed Shendu was watching him, unmoving. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, he moved for his jacket, and when Shendu did not protest, made to leave the room, heading for the docks- his favorite place to sit and think, recently. He could still feel the heat of his righteous anger hidden somewhere in his chest, possibly near his heart, but tried to block it from his mind. That fight had only been the first of many, chow was sure. He wasn't going to give this crusade up until Finn . . . Finn did something. He wasn't sure what sort of apology the Irishman would have to make. He's know, he supposed, when it happened.  
  
But there was no way Chow was going to let him get away with embarrassing him like that. Finn was going to pay.  
  
But if he was so right, and Finn so wrong, why did Finn's accusations leave him feeling so . . . hollow?  
  
********  
  
Shendu watched Chow exit out one of the warehouses side doors, and thoughtfully tapped a finger against his forearm.  
  
He made a quiet decision, carefully guarding it from Valmont's watchful presence. A flush of expectant bliss made his host's heart jitter ever so slightly.  
  
"Hak Foo!" The dragon demon called, his command reverberating in the vast, cold warehouse. 


End file.
